


Be Of Good Cheer

by Sonny



Series: WORD : GAMES [9]
Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-10
Updated: 2010-03-10
Packaged: 2017-10-16 20:42:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/169138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sonny/pseuds/Sonny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Secret Santa is on a mission of "good cheer"... ; for the word "year"...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Be Of Good Cheer

 

**Word is... YEAR**

 

 

Cynthia was alone in the hollowed offices, making last minute changes on some files, on her hard drive, before she would leave for her holiday vacation. Or so she _thought_ she was alone. She could hear things being moved and doors slamming, then someone humming. Like an actual holiday song she was familiar with. If she kept still at her desk, fingers poised over the keyboard, she could decipher slight ghost-like movements beyond the foggy glass of one wall. 

_Holy mother of..._

She spun around in her desk chair, padding on her stockinged feet over the carpet to move toward the door. She had some idea whom it could be, but then she always had high hopes that her Boss would one day enjoy the last three months of the  **year** instead of bemoaning the weeks prior, the days before and then the day of; sighing heavily in relief when the moment would pass and he was left unscathed. 

Delicately the knob turned in her tight grip, she peeked around the corner of the paneling. Cynthia squinted her eyes and focused on one patch of light coming out of Brian Kinney's office. She could only make out the shadowed tracings of the shape of a body, whom she couldn't figure out. Several people had keys to the office, but so few had ones to Brian's. Hell, even Michael had one-- _just in case_ . 

But, well... things weren't so good between the best friends these days, even with the holidays approaching. Not that it was a huge argument-- _actually, it was quite a small, dumb one_ \--keeping them apart for most of the last month of December. Cynthia bent her head in silent reminder, thinking back to the moments before things had come to such a heated, furious rage. She was in exactly the same room where the argument had taken place, secretly watching through the slit of her doorway. 

She sighed, shaking her head as she pulled back from the door and glass wall to move to her personal space area-- _a couch and chair placed around a tiny coffee table._ She plopped down and lifted her feet to rest them on the table surface, crossing at the ankles. Cynthia relaxed back, recalling she had a tiny bottle of champagne stuffed in the mini-fridge near her puny break table. She didn't even feel like contemplating stepping outside her office to disturb the Secret Santa who seemed determined to leave something rather special inside Brian Kinney's office. 

She snapped her fingers, pushing up to walk toward her bathroom. There was a thick short glass overturned on top of the mouthwash decanter. Chuckling quite giddily, she almost skipped to the tiled room, not bothering to turn on the lights. She tiptoed back out and got on her knees, making sure her skirt didn't ride up in the back to show her nether-regions. There was a bunch of leftover lunches, some snacks in Ziplock bags, energy drinks and diet colas to pull out before she spotted the darn bottle. She put everything back in a different place, of course, getting up to her feet like she'd found the Holy Grail. 

She tried to recall when she had gotten this champagne; whether from a client or Brian, himself. Didn't matter; it needed to be drunk and fast. She moved to her desk, opening a side drawer to take out her cell phone. With bottle, glass and phone in hand, she moved to plant herself-- _the long way_ \--down on her two-seater sofa. God, it was decadent. Brian had such good taste in interior decorating and buying the right furniture to make sure folks felt comfortable... if not downright sexy and confident. 

Cynthia generally always felt contentment, like she was in her own apartment, which was probably why she stretched out like she did. Pressing a button, she turned on her LCD screen and scrolled through her phone book. These days it only took one press and she had the phone number handy of the guy she had been seeing the last few weeks. She pulled herself upright a bit more, able to tuck the phone under a cheek and then twisting open the cap of the bottle to pour herself a sip of bubbly. 

It was weird. His phone went right to voicemail. _Cripes!_ What to say when she had planned on speaking to him for realz? So she waited for his deep voice to come up, telling her to leave her message. _**"Heyyyy... yeah... i's just me. Uh... sorry I didn't try before when you were actually close by, taking calls..."** _ She rolled her eyes, hoping that didn't sound too sarcastic or desperate. _**"... yeah, so... I'm still here at work, but once I'm home - at the apartment... my apartment - I'm there for good... so, uhm... yeah..."** _ She was having a little trouble with the cap, but finally got the stupid cellophane off by setting the bottle between her inner thighs and kneecaps. _**"... uhm.. sorry... I explored a bit an' found some liquor... granted it's probably flat an' whatnot, but... well, you probably don't even care to know this, but I just needed a little pick-me-up to get my tired, old fat ass out the door, back out into this cold..."** _ Cynthia rubbed her hand over her forehead, starting to feel nervous. So she sighed heavily as she began to pour out the liquid, realizing it _was_ flat like she had feared. _**"Okay, look, man... this is that 'thing' I was tellin' you about the other night, that I do when I'm... when I, like, like a guy and stuff is startin' to get really-real between us... an' I call at some ridiculous hour and then.. start to ramble for no good reason but that I don't wanna chase you away... but this probably, like, freaks you out about women in general. And it's even more sad and creepy coming from a woman the same age as you an', uhm..."** _ She clicked her tongue against her teeth and cheek. _**"Yeah, so I've made a complete an' utter fool of myself and there'll be no fourth date for us... right? Okay... so, lemme jus' say, right now, tha's a shame..."** _ She took a huge gulp of the flat champagne. _**"... 'cuz, like, I bet there's some nice Vicotoria's Secret lingerie sitting under my tree, from my cruel and despondent girlfriends who keep trying to set me up with, uh... other men..."** _ She closed her eyes tight. _**"All right... please... erase this... forget I called... an', maybe... lose my number... so, yeah..."** _ Cynthia hung up as quick as possible, throwing her phone against the opposite arm of the couch, watching it bounce off the cushion of the arm to land between her feet. " _Oh, christ..._ " She gave up the glass and started downing the bottle like a drunkard on the city streets, all she needed was a brown paper bag over the exposed glass area of the bottle. 

She sat there for a few minutes, just thinking what a dunderhead she was to even feel an ounce of happiness and then to make a call. It was those moments of wishing there was someone at home _**to** _ call and shoot the shit with of what had happened throughout the day. Then to plan out the rest of the week and over the holidays. She missed that, even though she had never truly had it to speak of. Or maybe she was thinking about what she had seen with her own parents and her sisters with their husbands. _Oh, god..._ this was even sadder than two years ago when she had actually been close to becoming engaged. This man was so new, she could still smell the fresh paint job on him. She giggled, then hiccuped... 

... so the champagne was flat-- _not bubbly_ \--yet the alcoholic content was still powerful enough to make her feel giddy and a little flustered in the face. 

She heard more noises from outside, so she finally stood. She was ready to stand face-to-face with this Jolly Ole Saint Nick and give him a piece of her mind. And as she forcefully yanked open her office door, she wandered out in her stockinged feet to look over the cubicled offices. There was solid whistling now, then the final lyrics as the person who had snuck in made a hasty exit. 

 

_**When friends come to call** _

_**It's the hap-happiest season of all** _

 

Nice bass voice too. Like from an acappella group or a barbershop quartet. 

Out of curiosity, and feeling sorry for her lonely-ass self the day before Christmas Eve, she strolled over to one of Brian's glass doors to his office. Her hand came up to shield itself as she peered beyond the half-open blinds. 

_Oh... my... Lordy..._

She didn't know if her jaw could drop any lower or if she would trip over it on her way beyond the threshold. Luckily, hanging off her skirt waist was a ring set of office keys. She knew exactly which one would re-open the locked door. She had to see this for herself without anyone around; she nearly felt like crying her heart out once she turned on all the lights and walked through to stand at the front of the huge glass desk. 

It was like the North Pole had been transported into the room. _Dear God..._ and not just a typical Christmas decoration, either. Whomever did _this_ went totally _old school_ . Like a Ye Olde Christmas Shop--a traditional Winter Wonderland brought to life. 

Cynthia spent several minutes simply moving in a circle about the space, hesitatively reaching out to touch as much as she could to see if everything was all real. And oh, yeah... it was. 

She put down her bottle, near her feet, smoothing down her skirt as she folded her legs under to take the whole atmosphere in. She didn't know why, but she felt tears falling, her face going redder around her eyes and nose. She didn't really focus on this very movement until she heard a phone ring in the distance.  Realizing it was coming from inside Brian's office, and it was her cell phone stuffed in her skirt pocket, she quickly made sure she "looked" presentable for the phone. 

"Uh, uhm... hello?" Cynthia sniffled, clearing her throat. She closed her eyes to reprimand herself for not looking at the Caller I.D. before answering. 

"Cynthia... it's me..." 

Instantly, Cynthia felt like crumbling further to the floor. This was _him_ . _New Guy_ . Elliot Leighton. Or "Eli", for short. "Hey, uhm... yoooou..." She stretched out the tease, sniffling out a soft laugh then going quiet. Her brow furrowed with her mind whirring in different directions. "Where are you?" 

Elliot lightly chuckled, undoing his tie as he relaxed back on the sofa cushions. "I'm at your place. Actually, I'm inside... sitting here with your _cat_ ." 

And yes, indeed, he was. Emerald eyes glared at him from their resting position on the more comfortable looking chair in the room, which was the cat's domain. 

Cynthia covered a hand over her face. "Oh, god... how did you--?" 

"You might wanna consider moving. Your landlady seems to be rather lenient on who she let's into your place when you're not around." 

"Okay..." She deeply chuckled, only because her landlady was actually one of the few really good friends she still had. Well, who knew her plight with finding Mr. Right. Cynthia moved to place her butt directly to the carpet. "Can I just tell you how... eerily comforting it is to hear you're--?" 

"... _home_ ?" Elliot finished for Cynthia as he stared ahead to send his gaze about the heavily decorated living room. "You weren't kidding with these decorations, were you?" 

"Well..." Cynthia dropped her voice to almost a hushed tone. "... they are all I have left of my Mom and what I remember of my own childhood. I guess I have some idiosyncrasies I didn't tell you about." 

"You do seem to have _plenty_ of them." 

Cynthia didn't know how to take a comment like that in such a bland, monotone voice. "Yeah..." 

Elliot realized he may have overshot a boundary. He sat forward, pinching the bridge of his nose. "--an' that's not saying these are necessarily bad or terrible things. Uh... they certainly aren't  'deal breakers' for me... if that's what worries you." He was starting to feel warm and very nervous. Could be those narrowing cat eyes intensely looking at him, the claws pawing gently on the surface of the blanket over the cushions. 

Cynthia closed her own eyes, shaking her head. "You listened to that voicemail, didn't you?" 

Elliot swallowed heavily, almost choking on a laugh. "What voicemail?" He didn't have a true grasp on how to lie successfully. 

"Good one, Eli... good one... all right, all right... so maybe I am stressin' for nothin', but I'm also not the one that sought refuge in a stranger's apartment on the night before one of the biggest holidays of the year." 

"Touche... touche..." Elliot was back to feeling more confident, which was weird since his whole career was based on how much in control he could be of situations in a courtroom. "An' what makes you think I'm a refugee of my own life?" He stood up to walk around the low coffee table, heading into the kitchen. He had seen Cynthia reach up into a specific cabinet one night, pulling down metal cans. He had a one-in-five chance of being wrong. He knew he had time to make several mistakes before he had full power of the room. Or at least off the "clawing-to-death" list of one said purebred white Himalayan cat. 

Cynthia got up, not without making some noises with her mouth as her joints and bones creaked and cracked on the way. "Well, if I recall now, you did mention something about the Ex. Possibly that, you know, she'd tie you up with something ridiculous and lame around the holidays... like, uh... usual." She carried the bottle back over to Brian's desk, catching sight of a large handwritten note taped to the edge of the desk, pretty much giving Brian something of a "clue" to what this all could mean. Why his office looked like Santa's workshop. She giggled, feeling her heart overwhelm with warmth and a feeling of affection. God Bless whomever did this. Brian was either going to shit bricks or die of heart palpitations to how crowded his spacious office looked now. 

"Yeah, well... I seem to recall you saying to me that I needed to-- _what was it?-_ -cut the apron strings now or forever be tied to her. So I, uh... told her in no certain terms that I wasn't her lapdog anymore." 

"Oh, good... good for you..." 

Elliot smiled to himself when he found what he was looking for, then went to the other side of the kitchen and opened the exact cabinet he wanted. He took down the dish he would use, then opened the can. It was a manual opening can, so no peculiar noise to "call the wild" to their dish. So he thought maybe he would be Mr. Nice Guy and actually carry the plate to His Highness on his "throne". "Yeah... so she looked me over-- _like she typically does when I do something weird, not the Norm_ \--and she asked me what was wrong... what was different... like she could see something 'different' about me already." He put the small plate down on the coffee table to allow the cat to sniff the air before gobbling down the offer of food. 

Cynthia felt her heart pick up pace. "She, uh... she knows you _that_ well?" 

"No. Not really. She just hates not getting her way. One slight deviation and she's on you like a hawk. She'll kill you quick if you're not prepared." 

"Were you?" 

"Huh?" 

"Prepared. Did you tell her--?" 

"No. I told her 'yes, my life is changing...', but I made her aware that she's no longer allowed to know anything more than what I'm willing to tell her. And, frankly, I want to keep you to myself for a little while longer." 

"Eli..." 

"Look... Cynthia... it could just be a fluke or something... a switch in the air or perfect timing, but I feel like a different 'me' when I'm around you. Hell... I'm only in your place, for Christ's sake, an' already I've got your cat eating out of the palm of my hand." Elliot continued to direct the plate closer and closer to the interested green eyes as the fresh meat could be snuffed out. 

"--and you say you're not a good liar." 

"I'm not... so I must be telling the truth." 

"I don't know. Mr. Bakersmythe is pretty subjective when it comes to the men in and out of my life." 

Elliot watched the cat sit up, paws forward, eyes narrowing on the dish with his favorite food planted dead center. Elliot picked up the plate and set it on the area near Mr. Bakersmythe, watching the cat stare at it with somewhat shocked and a bit of a disapproving eye, like this wasn't the proper room to eat food in. Especially not on the nice furniture. Elliot chuckled slightly. "I seem to be getting through... though he's not sure we should break the rules, you know." He furrowed his brow. "You're a lot more trusting than Mr.B." 

"Are you... feeding my cat, Eli?" 

"Uh, yeah... is that okay?" 

Cynthia was blinking back tears rapidly. "Yeah... uh, yes, yes... it's good. I should've thought of that before I made the choice to stay late here, at the office." 

"Hey, hey..." Elliot could hear something weird in Cynthia's voice. "... you okay? You sound like you've been crying or about to. Is it--?" 

"No, no... I get oddly weepy around this time. It's just _things_ in my head, is all." 

"Oh, okay... look, finish up what you're doing there an'--since Mr. B is all settled in for awhile... lemme come out to you, pick you up. Let's go to that cafe we found a few nights ago. I think we both need some good coffee and conversation." 

"Eli..." 

"Cynthia, it's okay. You don't need to say anything, I know... all right?" 

"--thank you." She felt like such a heavy weight had been lifted off her back and shoulders, what it had been she didn't know. 

"No. No 'thanks' needed. I feel the strange pull toward you too. Like watching everyone else celebrate this joyous holiday with family and friends, yet... I don't have anybody I can truly turn to except--" 

_**"... you."** _

_**"... you..."** _

The way they both finished that one little word caused them both to intake a strong breath. It was as if they both could feel the same sensation of connection and closeness, of just needing the comfort of another soul... not sexual or physical, but on a simple emotional level of togetherness. 

"Eli..." 

"... yeah?..." 

"Jus' honk, I'll be ready when you get here." 

"I'll keep the car warm for you, while I wait." 

"... good, good..." 

"Cynthia..." 

"Uh-huh?" 

"Any chance you could guarantee me a future opportunity to see at least one or two of those Victoria Secret's lingerie pieces... you know, later on?" Much, much later--like a few weeks or so, but soon. 

Cynthia was locking up Brian's office, her face moving into complete embarrassment and shock, her jaw dropping once again to the floor... 

Stupid, stupid voicemail... 

**===============================**

 

Hunter had the cordless tucked under his cheek as he went to unlock the front door of Red Cape.  _**"... yeah, yeah... of course I'm inviting ya, dude... I wouldn't be askin' if it wasn't... yeah... yes... hold on, I gotta..."** _ He moved to hold open the glass paneling to allow the body to pass through, then shut the cold out in a flash. A gust of snow drifted in. _**"Hey... you gonna be there awhile?..."** _ He paused to listen closely to the comment. _**"... cool beans, man... yeah, I'll ring ya up once I'm done here... sure, sure... 'asta!"** _ He hung up to cross arms over his chest as he contemplated the person before him. "So... is my 'guard duty' over yet?" 

There was a soft chuckle as two gloved hands were rubbed together, like an Evil Mastermind. "... oh, yeah... you didn't have to stay until I showed. As long as you and I met each other at some point to pass along any messages or news." Eyes gazed about the darkened, yet lightly hued room that had once been the darkened, shadowed hallows of Red Cape Comics. "Did he call?" 

"Shit yeah _he_ called." Hunter tucked one hand into the back pocket of his jeans, then leaned on one of the new racks of comics on the ground floor. Even he was impressed with how much was done in such a short time period. Man, it was true about money; if you had enough of it you could buy anyone's time. "I may have said something I wasn't supposed to. Like a city water main busting or whatnot, but you really didn't say how you were gonna get him to come out here before Christmas Eve or Day. So I jus', like... improvised, but I may have made him cut his vay-cay with Jen short." 

There came another laugh, boisterous and quite joyful, as a hand waved the worry away. "Don't worry. If he hasn't shown up by now then he can't get here until tomorrow. By then I'll have talked to him, calmed him down a bit." The feet started to wander around the newly renovated space. Man, even he was impressed with what a certain amount of green could buy in this city. Maybe it helped that with the recession in the recent economy the quality of work had stepped up a notch or two. Damn! He wished he could pat himself on the back for this one. "... he just needs to see all this before the party, you know." 

"Uh, yeah... I _do_ know." Hunter, himself, spun around the room, almost trailing behind his companion in the spacious room. "You coming to the, uh... shindig?" 

His back was to Hunter, hands tucked into his coat pockets. "Wouldn't miss it for the world." 

"Even with the, uhm...?" Hunter didn't wanna open some old wounds, but there certainly was plenty of discord and severed friendships this late in the holiday season. 

"--it'll all work itself out." The voice was low timbered, but spoke as if all-knowing and seeing. "--like it usually does." 

"Wow... tha's rather optimistic." Hunter frowned with some concern. He didn't know this man too well, not like he knew Ben and Michael, but he was growing to like him, even considered him a good confident. "You've been 'bitten' by the cheerful bug, haven't you?" 

"Nah... I'm jus'--" He turned a bit, offering only his profile. "I think it's the start of the New Year. It always causes me to take a restock of the past, think over how to react in the coming days to start off anew--so to speak." 

Hunter nodded his head, keeping his chin to his chest in his own contemplation. "I'm almost sure it helps when there's love around." He didn't mean it specifically as much as in general; opening your heart to people and affections never once cherished. 

A voice was cleared as the feet were carried further into the larger store, Red Cape had expanded in a matter of twenty-four. A selfless, thankless "gift" to Michael. A brand new, much-needed start to a burgeoning business. Under his breath, he started humming that one tune he couldn't get out of his head. He had been innocently shopping at one of the local Big Q's and over their novelty muzak station on the loud speaker came an old holiday song he recalled hearing from his own parent's stereo. Never one to attach too much to Top 40 songs, he couldn't get this damn thing out of his head, humming it off and on as he did his "spreading holiday cheer" duty. 

"You don't have to stay, Hunter. I'll be here for a few and I'll lock up in the next half-hour." He directed an index finger toward the area of where the old offices had been, making sure he was heading to the right place. At Hunter's nod, he slowly took off. "--you gonna be okay? need a ride home or--?" 

Hunter smirked, lifting up one side of his mouth. "Nah... thanks though. I got me a hot mamasita waiting for me back at my crib." He scratched above one eyebrow. "I'll be taking her to Deb's thing tomorrow night." 

"So I get to finally meet this enigma of wo-man who's tamed your wild nature?" 

"Eh... you can look, but you can't touch. 'Cuz she's mine." Hunter tapped a flat palm to his billowed chest. He knew he was safe, that's what was great about having so many gay men as friends. No chance they'd steal your chicks. 

"Go on. Git. I'm sure she's been waitin' long enough." With that he strolled to the single door along the wall and opened the paneling, he disappeared behind the superhero wallpaper. 

Hunter got back on the cordless, hitting redial. He moved over to the new cashier counter, picking up coat, scarf and hat. _**"Yo, dude... I'm bustin' out... yeah, yeah... he showed an' set me free... hehehehe... pretty much... nah, man, he's cool... cooler than you'd expect."** _ Hunter had to smile wider as he put his coat on one sleeve at a time, still able to handle the phone. _**"... oh, no... not 'cool' like my Dad - Michael... an' not really prudish like my other Dad - Ben... he's kinda his own person... yeah, like us... hehehe... I'll be there in ten, 'kay... laters..."** _

Even though there was still someone inside the store, Hunter locked up behind himself-- _just in case_ . 

**=====================================**

 

Brian was waiting as patiently as he could in the kitchen, leaning back against the counter. He rubbed at a sore spot between his eyes where he could feel a slow headache approaching. If Justin would pick up the pace, they could make it out of the Loft in the next few seconds--before the heavy predicted snowfall fell. 

" _**Tayyyylor!** _ " He could hear the sound of Jack's own voice laced inside his own. That curt military yelp of command. But sometimes Justin could be as prissy about his "looks" before going out as Emmett would have been. " _**Seriously--it's Deb. How much more pretty do you think you need to be?!** _ " He laughed as he heard the disapproval from this far away. He knew Justin hated being picked on for his semi-teenage antics. 

Justin shoved on his goose-down jacket, doing up the zipper as he plopped down the two steps to the living room where he picked up the rest of his wintry accessories. "Drop me off at Daphne's." He wound the scarf about his neck, shoving down hat and then putting on his gloves. As he turned he knew he'd see the stunned shock of Brian's face. "What?" 

"Nothin'." Brian swallowed the lump lodged in his throat. He had feared needing to herd Justin around all night. What kind of Christmas miracle was this? Ever since he had been told to come into work early this morning-- _for some silly "Client 911"_ \--he had nothing but happy, excitable, yet fearful feelings brewing in his gut, having this urge to visit Michael. Only Michael could've come up that kind of a "gift" for him to make up for their fight. Well, not a fight as much as a, uh... hearty disagreement. "Are you ill? Or just mental?" 

"What do you mean?" Justin furrowed his brow in confusion. 

"That must be some kind of ass you have at the moment--to neglect a party at Debbie's for your own friend." 

"Eh... maybe it's time she and I patched things up. Plus..." Justin wiggled two dark blond eyebrows. "... there's a small gathering of her and Glen's friends, some family and there might be a, uh..." 

Brian held up a hand, palm out. "Say no more. I don't care. Though I am quite pleased that you're pursuing _other_ prospects." 

Justin did one last solid knot around his throat, then moved toward the metal doorway. "Seeing as the 'well' has run dry here, where else can I go?" With that, he yanked open the door and took the two flights of stairs down to the ground floor, heading outside to reach the Stingray. 

"Well, gosh... fuck me sideways and then some." Brian shook his head at his dumb luck for the evening, making a really peculiar quick check of his Blackberry. Oddly, there was a message for him on his phone. From Michael. 

_Damn..._ he would attempt to listen to it before he got out of the car and into the Novotny home. No sense in showing up without some "ammo" loaded. 

**===================================**

 

Michael was thankful to be surrounded by family. Not just figuratively, but literally. He had forgotten that his mother's invite to her party had also included Ben. So it hadn't mattered that they were separated and nearing complete break-up, Ben was still considered like family to Debbie. Michael wasn't cruel enough to deny Ben that right since his own family didn't live anywhere near him and he hated traveling at this time of year. 

But watching his Ex arrive with another man was a bit jarring, if not kind of interesting. To get an insight into Ben's true taste in men. He never really understood the deep attraction or affection that kept them together for so long. He understood the depletion of it better. The way the things they didn't have in common or the things Ben refused to share with him kept them apart and distant. 

This guy-- _this old "friend" of Ben's_ \--was quite a stunner. Nothing like Ben, in looks or physique, but in mentality and thought process. Michael swallowed heavily to notice how much more lively and openly affectionate Ben seemed to be with this man. He didn't want to compare, but it was tough not to. The only similarity Michael appeared to share was hair color, but from there things went up a scale; taller, lankier, gorgeous green eyes not brown and darker complexion not pale-skinned. The list was endless if Michael kept staring. 

He tried not to as he had Jenny on his left, her tiny body leaning into his side. Gus was planted dead center of his legs, where he could periodically look down at what the boy had in his hands and nuzzle his cheek against that soft ash-blond hair. They were seated on the steps, the staircase leading up to the second floor. Hunter had placed himself a step or two below Gus, whom he was beginning to consider a near-brother, and the "date" he had brought with him was soaking up the family atmosphere. 

There was some commotion in or near the kitchen; Michael didn't pay attention as he devotedly stayed focused on the children and keeping happy and alive until Brian showed. _Damn him..._ Michael had already swatted Hunter a few times for scaring the shit out of him about that dumb "water main" story, only to find that Red Cape had not only grown in size-- _the storefront to its left being bought out_ \--but that there was a whole new layout designed for him. Apparently, rumor had it that this was an old drawing by Brian himself that had been found while cleaning out some boxes at the Kinnetic offices. So old even Brian had seemed to have forgotten he had sketched them out. Well, this was what the rumor mill told him, not actually Brian in his own words. 

Michael still felt alight with deep respect and affection. How Brian could hide his own feelings, and sorrows, inside selfless acts such as what he had just given him and his livelihood. The most perfect "boost" to increase his sales and his own confidence about expansion. One of Michael's legs started to bounce up and down as he grew more nervous. He knew his mother was waiting to make some kind of "announcement" or a holiday speech to carry through the rest of the year until the new one; she was waiting for everybody to have made it, finally. 

There was a flash of cool air, drifting up the stairs. Everyone shivered in their own space, but then let it go as it had happened quite often the whole night as people arrived at different intervals. 

Debbie walked out, carrying a coat over one arm, as she looked out over the sea of familiar, and some new, faces. She couldn't help catching sight of how strange some people were acting: Emmett sipping at a cup of her party punch, eyes darting toward Ted, who leaned against one side of the huge archway from living room to kitchen; Brian now stood, over Ted's left shoulder, almost hibernating in fear as his hazel eyes scanned the room for one particular face. And Michael--well, Michael had been perched on those damn stairs for over an hour, looking like Story Hour Prince as he held court over his small bundle of family. 

Brian's eyes caught Ben's dark blond head bent over the man next to his left, obscuring the face and body. He had tucked thumbs in the back of his jean pockets, licking his dry lips as he nervously contemplated Michael having that reserved spot beside his "husband". Yeah, even though they had some rocky times, Brian still feared the wedded couple would find bliss again--and all those moments he and Michael had shared would simply be erased. But as Ben pulled back, allowing the view of the man at his side, Brian was able to release a held breath, almost a sigh. 

Ted could almost feel the heat of the air from Brian's mouth pelt his skin. "His name's Kieran. He's an old friend of Ben's. Personal trainer at a gym he used to go to. The guy has his own door-to-door business now, I think." Those deep brown eyes looked the man up and down. "I have to say..." Ted patted his own partially flabby belly. "... I could stand to lose a few pounds after the new year." 

Brian had to look away or be caught staring. _Damn..._ he hated to say that Ben had great taste in men, but that would mean slighting someone who meant more to him than anyone. "--where is _he_ ?" 

Ted gestured with chin and mug of egg nog. "Stairs. Up at the top. Been there since I got here. The kids all flocked to him like the Pied Piper." 

Brian placed his hand slightly above Ted's dark head on the archway molding. He leaned forward a little to see around the wall, up the steps. He could detect Michael's legs and those tell-tale shoes of his: fashionable, weather-appropriate hiking boots. Gus sat between Michael's thighs--a secret place Brian wouldn't have minded sitting himself. But maybe later, once they had talked. "Yeah... he knows how to treat them, when every other adult ignores them." 

"He's fine, by the way." 

"Huh?" 

"You were gonna ask me how he was, weren't you?" Ted was having this whole conversation with Brian without even looking over his shoulder. 

"Uhm.. yeah... maybe..." 

"Wait a few minutes. Grab a cup of punch or 'nog. I'll send him your way." 

"After Deb's spoken." Brian motioned toward Debbie. "I think I'll stay right where I am until she gives me the 'go-ahead'." 

"Good call, Kinney." 

Brian softly chuckled. "Thanks, Schmidt." 

"Sip?" Ted handed his cup over his shoulder to Brian. 

Brian felt a little emotional at being "taken care of", like Ted so often did over this last month or so. "Em's an evil, evil bastard, Teddy." He mumbled before he took a tentative sip of the egg nog, in case it was rum-laced. 

Ted spared his old friend a mere glance to see him hesitatively gazing over at him from across the room. "Stop that." He turned now to lean his back completely on the molding, now he was umbrella-ed under Brian's arm. "He's been a good friend to me, despite the, you know..." 

Brian looked from Ted to Emmett, who kept giving him the "stink eye". Like Emmett wanted Brian to get away from his friend and not warp his mind. "He wants you to forgive him." 

"Just like you want _**Michael** _ to forgive _**you** _ ?" 

"... ouch..." 

"It's time. The clock ticks, we move on. Nothing stops unless you make it stop, Brian." 

Brian downed the rest of the egg nog, handing Ted back an empty cup. "When did you become a great philosopher on life an' relationships?" 

Ted shrugged one shoulder at a time. "You just have to try to 'live', man... tha's all." 

Brian chuckled, deeply this time, and it caused Michael to turn his head, then dip low to catch sight of Brian in the room, between the kitchen and living room. He raised his head at the exact moment Michael dipped, then released a small grin off one side of his mouth. He quickly went back to focusing on Ted. "Been hangin' out with ZenBen, have we?" 

"Nope." Ted didn't feel he needed explaining, Brian already knew something was different or changing about him. 

Everyone paused or simmered down their conversations as Debbie stood, kind of, front and center of the living room, so everybody could see and hear her. 

_**"Thank you all for coming..."** _ There was some reciprocations to "thanking her" for their invites and welcoming them-- _and their Plus Ones_ \--into her warm, friendly home. They would rather be here than anywhere else, in truth. _**"I know I usually tend to ramble on at this point... jumping aroun' an' aroun' tryin' to include a bunch of well-wishes and personal 'thank-yous' to everyone... but this year..."** _ She lifted her eyes to connect with Michael and watched him interact with Gus and Jenny--the way one generation passed on themselves to the next, sometimes without realizing their own power. _**"... we've lost a bunch of us this past year... some of you know... an' I feel that maybe sometimes we let them fall away, not reminding ourselves what's truly, truly most important about this season..."** _ Debbie cleared her throat, feeling her own emotions choking her at this point. All eyes were on her, but she dropped her gaze to the floor. _**"... not gonna talk about love an' romance... spouses and couples... but of family... an' good, solid friends..."** _

At that point, the four friends of old tried to locate one another in the room, doing so caused them all to get a bit emotional on some level. Ted had to remove himself, but only to carry his dirty cup to the sink. Brian took Ted's position, his back to Michael as he folded his arms over his chest. Emmett had to look away and out the window, eyes misting with tears. Michael leaned down to hold Gus tighter, feeling Jenny cuddle near to his hip. 

_**"It's been awhile... an' I know...** _ _ **I know** _ _**..."** _ Debbie finally opened her eyes, lifting her chin... and some people caught the two twin tears flowing out and down her rosy cheeks. _**"... you all might be kinda tired of this by now but... it's been almost two years to the day - I don't know, I try not to keep track, so it could be three - but lately I've been reminded what I've lost most of all... my one true best friend... my true north... my baby brother Victor..."** _

Sniffles and some random tear-shedding went around the room. Everyone understood and no one minded. 

She raised her own wine goblet in mid-air. _**"I can't forget those late nights he and I had pigged out and gossiped... those times I treasured our moments alone... when he supported me when everyone else stepped back and shunned me for making a not-so-popular choice... I honor my soul mate... because I have yet to find his equal... an' I hope I never do... Live on, kid... for you are sorely missed..."** _ She took a sip of her red wine. 

Someone's booming voice broke out in a raise of mutual glasses. _**"To Vic!"** _

The rest of the room called out the cheer in time, as one, then an odd moment of silence was taken before activity and talking picked back up. Mostly people where circling around Debbie, giving her the hugs and love she deserved for her speech. Emmett wander past Brian on his way into the kitchen. 

"Happy Holidays, Brian." Emmett never knew what to wish Brian Kinney. 

"Same to you, Em." 

Emmett stopped, turned and narrowed his eyes on Brian. "Are you happy, Brian?" He always wondered, sometimes never feeling safe to know when to ask and not be yelled at. 

Brian was somewhat flustered, not knowing what to say, how to respond. "Uhm... I plan on being... if that's even an answer you wanna hear." 

Emmett looked up at Michael on the steps, catching sight of him standing from his sitting position to walk down the staircase. "... good, good... I'm glad. Plans for New Year's Eve?" 

"Babylon, I guess." 

Emmett laughed lightly. "... yeah, right... where else would we all be, huh?" Crossing his arms at his back, he leaned toward Brian. "Don't look now... but Michael's headed this way." He swept on by, heading over to Ted, who still remained at the sink. 

Brian stiffened as he could hear the _clop-clop-clop_ of Michael's heavy boots, then their soft approach. The gentle way his hand that had been dangling at his side for awhile had been taken startled him. There was a tender sweeping motion up the forearm to tuck around the elbow joint. 

"Holding up the wall, I see." Michael muttered as he sidled to Brian's right side, watching sight of Emmett's slow approach to Ted's back. "... awww... tha's really sweet." 

"... wha--?" Brian almost forgot who had just left him as his head turned to follow Michael's gaze. "... oh, yeah... you jealous?" 

"Of _what_ ?" 

"--that I didn't follow you..." Brian didn't finish his sentence before Michael was quietly chuckling, shaking his head. "—what? You don't think I can humbly apologize, with my tail tucked between my legs?" 

"You know you never _have_ to." Michael cleared his throat, dipping his chin to chest. "Did you get my message?" 

Brian slowly nodded his head, staring down at the top of the black hair. "... yes, I did..." 

"Can we go somewhere--not here... maybe later--an' talk?" 

This time Michael had raised his head to catch Brian's slow nod, his hand reached out to smooth down the chest wall as if to make sure Brian was _really_ -real, not his imagination. He could detect the erratic breathing pattern. Brian was just as nervous and bothered by his presence too. "--I, uh..." 

"No. Don't." Michael placed a finger over Brian's lips, letting his fingers trace over the stubbled cheek. "Let's not ruin the moment, huh? We have all the time in the world, ahead of us... don't you know?" 

Brian smirked, nodding and then looked over to see Ben sparing them a glance or two. "We're being watched." He looked back into wide, concentrated brown eyes. 

"Good. I've had to _not_ -watch him for over an hour, as well." 

They shared a mutual laugh; Brian reaching out with both arms to rest them about Michael's waist, Michael's hands unable to stop touching the shirt Brian wore. 

"I miss'd you." Michael exhaled on a sigh. 

"Miss'd you too." 

"You're gonna have to kiss me sometime, you know?" 

"No? why?" Brian was a little perplexed. Michael's tone sounded playful and energetic, like he knew something Brian wasn't aware of. 

Michael pointed up to the top of the archway Brian had been standing under--where mistletoe hung conveniently to trap some unsuspecting fools, just like Brian. Lightly snickering, Michael leaned his forehead toward Brian's, hands coming up to surround and lock about the neck. "... i's okay... we don't have to kiss now. I think i's better to wait an' save it for later, when we're alone." 

Brian couldn't help but agree. 

As Emmett was making his own slight apologies, in a roundabout way, Ted spotted the view of Brian and Michael... secretly poo-pooing himself when he saw how they had _almost_ -kissed under the darn mistletoe... and he had planned it so perfectly. 

Still though, he had to give himself an **A** for effort and accomplishment. At least they were talking now and seemed to be back to their odd closeness. 

**====================================**

**New Year's Eve**

**11:30pm**

 

Ted didn't care. His neighbors could complain all they wanted. At least it wasn't that dreadful opera he knew they hated. He had broken down, finally, and gone out to purchase the CD that contained this damn jingle he couldn't get out of his head. Albeit, it had several cheap imitations, but the original was pure quality. 

Ted didn't mind singing along, now that he knew most of the words. He had a nice bass voice, something he had garnered in college when he sang with his acappella group as a simple hobby. Granted, Andy Williams and his ilk could do this one better... but he sure gave it a good, old try... 

 

_It's the most wonderful time of the year_

_With the kids jingle belling_

_And everyone telling you "Be of good cheer"_

_It's the most wonderful time of the year_

_It's the hap-happiest season of all_

_With those holiday greetings and gay happy meetings_

_When friends come to call_

_It's the hap-happiest season of all_

 

He almost thought the knocking was part of the song, then he thought someone banged on the wall, but once he figured out it was his own front door, he quickly went for the volume control on the remote, followed by heading to the door. 

He opened it, pausing instantly. 

"What... are _you_ doing here?" Ted didn't mean to sound like the visit was unwanted, but he had foregone the "friend" outing to Babylon on the account he wanted to ring in the new year alone. Blake being stuck out in Seattle made it a tough time to want to be cheery and bright. No more "spreading holiday cheer" until next December. 

"I heard the news you're alone." 

Ted spun away, letting Emmett enter and shut the door. He went back to turning up the music a tad. "Yeah... I kinda wanted it that way. On purpose." 

  


_There'll be parties for hosting_

_Marshmallows for toasting_

_And caroling out in the snow_

_There'll be scary ghost stories_

_And tales of the glories of_

_Christmases long, long ago_

 

"Are you kiddin' me?" Emmett raised his voice a little over the song. "This is not a time to be alone... or want solitude. Not when there's a _party_ to be had." 

 

_It's the most wonderful time of the year_

_There'll be much mistltoeing_

_And hearts will be glowing_

_When love ones are near_

_It's the most wonderful time of the year_

 

Ted opened his arms to show he was in his pajamas. "Not really dressed for a party atmosphere, Em. But thanks for thinking of me." He strolled into his kitchen, keeping safe behind the counter. 

Emmett pulled up a stool to the breakfast bar counter. "Hey... what kinda friend would I be if I didn't try to come change your mind once I knew you'd backed out of the Babylon outing." 

Ted waved the worry away. "That was more of a 'couple' thing. I'd've felt like a third wheel." 

"You could have asked me." 

"Huh?" 

"I'd've gladly been your 'date', Teddy." 

Ted laughed outright as if it was the creepiest and the stupidest idea ever. "Eh, nah... no--no thanks. Not even a consideration." 

Emmett tenderly pat over the general placement of his heart. "I'm almost hurt." 

"You'll get over it." 

"So, uh... you gonna let me in on the 'secret'?" 

"What 'secret'?" 

"Why you felt the need to play Santa to Michael AND Brian this year?" 

Ted went still. "You knew it was _me_ all along?" 

Emmett swished his head, and some of his body, from side-to-side. "Oh... I kinda figured. I mean... it was what our own fight was about. Then I couldn't help noticing how ecstatic you've been lately over the sight of them two being unable to _not_ be around one another." 

Ted shrugged nonchalantly, as if what he'd done was no big deal. "They got a kick out of it actually. Neither of them knew the other hadn't done those things for the other until just recently. I kinda figured you might've said something." 

"Nope." Emmett motioned that his lips had been zipped. "You might wanna talk to that Girl Friday of Brian's." 

"Cynthia?" 

"Yeah..." Emmett gestured a thumb over to the entertainment unit where the stereo was kept. "... you kept humming this song. It was like your 'calling card'. Like leaving a cigarette butt at a crime scene, Sherlock." 

Ted gently smacked his own forehead. "Damn... I had forgotten she stayed a little over before she left for vacation. I had thought I was all alone, off to do my stealth-y elf-work." 

Emmett nodded his head, smiling widely. "Seriously, Teddy, that was an awesomely sweet thing for you to do for them both. Not to mention how easily it brought them back together." 

"Oh, well... I don't think that's ever the toughest part of the job. They just needed pointing in the right direction, back to one another." 

"You ever been able to find someone like _that_ ?" 

"Who?" 

"Your True North? A soul mate that's irreplaceable?" 

Ted smirked, his eyes focusing on Emmett. "You wanna know if it's you, don't you?" 

"I wonder, ya know. I know we've had our ups-n-downs, our massive gaps of misunderstandings, but in the end--" Emmett wasn't about to waver his eyes once from Ted's face. "--you _do_ know there's no one I'd rather live out the rest of my life with?" 

Ted swallowed nervously, knowing he didn't want to say too much without Blake being around to keep things grounded. "I do love you, Em, even with all the crap still left between us. But I'm not sure I know what a soul mate looks or feels like. I know I don't have, and never have had, what Brian and Michael share. I'm not sure I'm capable of having that sort of... _closeness_ ... without fearing I'd lose a bit of myself." 

"But that's okay, right?" 

"What?" 

Emmett still felt his heart cracking a little at Ted's words. "It's okay that we can't find _that-_ \- _what they have-_ -for ourselves? That we may just have the Light or Diet version?" 

It took Ted a minute before he realized that Emmett was trying to apologize for not feeling the same way, either. How crazily inept they both were at relationships and friendships, but that they could still come together and find a commonality, managing to like the other person. Ted started to softly chuckle deep inside his chest. "... hehehe... yeah... yes... I think it's very okay. You want some wine?" 

"I'd love some wine, baby." Emmett rubbed his hands together in contemplation of spending a great night with his best friend, ringing in the newest year. He jumped down off the stool, having taken off his coat just moments before since he now knew he would get to stay awhile. He was looking over the collection of CDs, before he thought about looking in the CD player itself. Emmett smiled when he found what he was searching for. 

Closing the CD bay, Emmett waited a bit before pressing the Fast Forward buttons to the exact CD he wanted to hear. Out poured the first bars of La Traviatta... and the mood was set perfectly for the rest of the night into the next day... 

 

**~*~the end.**


End file.
